For Emcee

[onceaviking]

Eric's room is neat, cool, and quiet.
He turns the light on as he steps through the door and it bathes the room in a soft glow.

The bed is made. White Egyptian cotton, a blue bedspread . it reminds him of waves.

He turns and looks at Emcee. Quietly.

Comments

[onceaviking]

"Flattery," Eric murmurs.
Not that he minds.

"Are you okay?" he asks, retreating back to practicalities.
"Or do you need more ..."
Trailing off because he likely doesn't. But willing to offer just the same.

Fuck the sanctity of the blood. He'll do as he please.

[i_am_your_host]

It may be flattery, but he means it, and he's sure that Eric's lack of modesty would not prevent him from thinking so either.

The offer of blood is yet another surprise. He looks up at him, at the same time assessing if he's well enough to leave.

"No, thank you, I think I'm fine," he says with a wan smile that's nothing more than a twitch at the corners of his mouth. "Thank you also for the food and the trousers. It helped. The food more than the trousers, of course."

[onceaviking]

Eric nods and then he swings his legs onto the bed and lies down.
Stretching.

It makes his top ride up, just a little.

[i_am_your_host]

It's not fair.

Here Emcee was, all ready to leave, when Eric goes and stretches like that.

Not fair.

Glancing away with a sniff, and distractedly tucking his hair behind his ear, he slowly starts to move off the bed.

"I should probably go now."

[onceaviking]

Eric turns a little, to look at him.

He wouldn't mind company.

He should. He should mind.
And Emcee ought to leave. For his own sake.

He doesn't say anything.

And then it slips out, a half offer, "If you need to rest ..."
Trailing off before it becomes a proper question.

[i_am_your_host]

By the time he offer comes, he's sitting on the edge of the bed, about to reach for his boots. And he straightens up, remaining still, with his back to Eric.

Why would Eric even do that? Why?

"I--"

Emcee can't say no. To himself, really.

"I might need to. Thank you."

He glances over his shoulder at him.

[onceaviking]

Eric waves him off and settles down.
Gazing at the ceiling.

Silence.

Then he says, "Did I ever tell you how I met Pam?"

the only thing that lives, is the judgement, the assessment of your life

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee watches him for a few moments before turning and crawling back across the wide bed to the spot he'd been sitting in.

"No, I don't believe you have," he muses, as he settles onto his side, one arm tucked under his head, facing Eric. "Only that she had been a whore and that she picked you."

[onceaviking]

"She ran a brothel, when I met her," he says.
"And at first, I was the one to pursue her. I'd noticed her before, but the streets were busy in San Francisco, so it had been fleeting glimpses. And then, one night, some crazed lunatic with a knife cornered her in a dark alley."

He smiles a little. Remembering.

"This was before your time. Close to the turn of the century. So she couldn't have run. Not dressed the way she was. "

His face relaxes as he speaks.

"But she didn't have to."

[i_am_your_host]

Turn of the century. Perhaps it was before Emcee's time, perhaps it was just as he entered the world. But he is familiar with the fashion of the period, as the bustle had just gone out of style and the long, layered skirts were evolving. Miss De Beaufort must have looked stunning in those tightly corseted dresses.

He watches Eric's face in profile as he speaks.

"You came to her aid."

In only the way a vampire does best, he assumes.

[onceaviking]

"I did. I ripped his throat open after he called her a whore. My hand was covered in his blood but even though I licked it off my fingers she did not flinch. We spoke a little. I cautioned her against the dangers in the streets at night and told her that a lady should be more careful. Her answer?"

And here his lips curl into a smile, the way it still does when Pam says something that amuses him.

"If I meet a lady, I'll let her know."

He chuckles.

"I had gotten blood all over her dress and so I left her with some money before I disappeared. Standing so close to her, I could feel the warmth of her body through her clothes, and then gone, into the shadows."

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee does flinch, a little, at the thought of what Eric could have done to his attackers if he hadn't held back.

But despite that, he notices a flicker of genuine warmth in his smile, hears it in his voice, when he speaks of Pam. It's obvious that he cares for her, but Emcee keeps that notion to himself this time.

"I can understand what you saw in her," he says quietly.

"What happened the next time you met?"

[onceaviking]

"I went to her establishment and she showed me what was on offer," Eric purrs.
"But I wanted her."

Not that her girls hadn't been attractive. They had.
But he had made up her mind.

[i_am_your_host]

He smiles a little, half of it hidden against his arm.

"And did she agree?"

[onceaviking]

"Not at first. She was not, as it were, on display. But everyone has a price."

Another, smaller smile.
"And she had a problem that I was able to take care of for her. Someone was preying on her girls, leaving them dead and bloodied and broken. A young vampire and his Maker, who, by the way, ought to have known better."

The smile turns sardonic.

"So I went up and - schooled them."

[i_am_your_host]

"That's awful," he murmurs, blanching at the thought of those poor girls, who must have been all-too-easy prey.

"I'm sure Miss De Beaufort was very grateful for your assistance. ...What did you do to the vampires?"

[onceaviking]

"I chastised the Maker for not teaching her Progeny how to behave. And I refrained from killing him when he attacked me. A vicious little thing, but practically a baby vamp. He didn't know any better. So they left. After Pam had insisted they pay her for the dead girl."

You can hear the pride.

[i_am_your_host]

Even after all that, Pam still had the sense (and the audacity, perhaps) to seek recompense for her financial losses. Yes, he can certainly see why Eric would be proud of her.

"Even then she was bold, wasn't she?"

[onceaviking]

"She was," he agrees, his voice almost soft.
"She was. And then I bedded her. I told her what I was and she didn't shy away."

[i_am_your_host]

She must have fallen in love with him right about then, but Emcee doesn't say this aloud. The affection is already obvious in Eric's voice.

"And you said she chose you to turn her," he says, also softly.

[onceaviking]

"She asked me. And I told her no. I wasn't ready to be a Maker."

His eyes are distant. Remembering. Her voice. The tears welling up in her eyes. Turning his back on her, getting dressed.

The sound of the knife through her soft flesh and the scent of blood.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee knits his brows as he sees his expression and demeanor shift almost dramatically. He's at least learned that being a Maker is a great responsibility and that decisions like that cannot be taken lightly.

After a moment, he asks quietly, "What made you change your mind?"

[onceaviking]

His eyes flick to Emcee and away again.
"She killed herself. And I wouldn't let her go."

Not 'she tried'. Had he not intervened, she would have succeeded.
Though couldn't might be more precise than wouldn't.

It's only Mausi. It doesn't matter. He can tell him this.

[i_am_your_host]

He gasps, putting his fingers to his lips. His eyes are wide, blinking at Eric.

"You saved her life."

Again.

No wonder their bond seems as strong as it is.

[onceaviking]

"I did. And I made her mine."

And that is stronger than any claim on any human will ever be.